Ellie belfiglio

When I hear this sound that awakens me, intimidating its way into my cloistered night, I write…




In the shaky water, a smile

Blooms of a flower.

Above the branches, clouds

Peak with bud shaped like cotton balls;

And their pale faces-

Appear in the water!

Into the water a pebble I throw!

The water breaks, shows images…


Yet again, I throw another rock-

Into the water, now smooth!

The rock breaks the smooth surface-

Of water that has no welcome;

It desires to live, but it doesn’t know-

Living, when you look at its depth.

As I look to the surface of desire,

Goes deep, very deep to retire.

It is born, now it is dead.

It never had a name but fear!! …





Author: elliebelfiglio

I am a professor, a poet, an author, and an immigrant. I am the survival of many political and economical hardship. As a political immigrant, it took me a long time to master the English language and to come to terms that I can never see my family again. "THE PARTING FROM MY FAMILY WAS THE BEGINNING OF A FRIENDSHIP THAN THE END OF OUR FRIDAYS!" My autobiography, "THE RAIN STOPS IN TEXAS" was published in 1997 by Eakin Press. It can be found in Amazon. As Ernest Hemingway says, write about something you know, most of my novels are about cultural difference of the old and new and American style of living compare to my home country. My poetry are in all forms. I write as they come to me. My first draft is always my last draft. "THIS IS MY WORLD, WELCOME!" "THANK YOU FOR BEING HERE!"

3 thoughts on ““IT NEVER HAD A NAME”

  1. Your visuals and accompanying words are stunning.

Let everybody be nice!

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